


Do I Exist?

by rumbleroarsslumberingcubs



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Sad Ending, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:21:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26031067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rumbleroarsslumberingcubs/pseuds/rumbleroarsslumberingcubs
Summary: Six times Klaus' family ignored him and one time he wished they did.
Relationships: Allison Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves, Ben Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves, Diego Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves, Klaus Hargreeves & Luther Hargreeves, Klaus Hargreeves & Reginald Hargreeves, Klaus Hargreeves & Vanya Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy & Klaus Hargreeves
Comments: 23
Kudos: 453





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone, I just started The Umbrella Academy (almost done with Season 1) and I immediately fell in love with Klaus' character. I wrote this at 2 AM so it might not be great ha, but I just wanted to explore Klaus' character a little.  
> TW: self harm, suicide attempt, referenced child abuse. Please don't read if any of these things are triggering to you!  
> Hope you're all staying safe and sane!  
> *AN: So...Dave shouldn’t be mentioned in this story due to the timeline, but I love the idea of Klaus seeing him so I’m keeping it. Sorry haha!

_Father._

Klaus often finds himself drawn to his sister’s pretty clothes. For the eleven-year-old, Allison’s cute little ballet flats and sparkly bracelets are nearly irresistible. Klaus knows he’s a boy, and he knows that apparently, boys don’t like dresses. Or fancy jewelry. Or gorgeous shoes.

But god, he would do _anything_ to wear them. 

Even just one thing, like the simple black skirt carelessly discarded on his sister’s floor beside the hamper.

To her, it’s just another piece of clothing. For Klaus, it represents freedom.

Dad hardly lets them out of uniform. It would kill him to see his son in something so frivolous as casual clothing.

It would infuriate him to see Klaus in frivolous, _feminine_ clothing.

The thought both frightens and exhilarates the boy.

Disappointing his father seems almost exciting. Maybe, just maybe, his dad will actually pay attention to him.

Maybe if he makes Father completely upset, he’ll actually spend some time with Klaus. Maybe he’ll get to know him, possibly even like him.

He tries so hard to be a good boy, to do everything right and make his father proud, but he always seems to fall short.

But his brothers and sisters? Well, they seem to be perfect.

Klaus is always making mistakes, getting distracted by the voices in his head.

He’s always waking his mother with screams that echo throughout the whole house. 

Mother always tries to calm him, but the pleading ghosts of the past never leave him alone. And Father never bothers to check on him.

That skirt, though…

Well, it’s too tempting to resist.

It’s soft and silky in his hands as he lovingly caresses the fabric.

 _Allison is so lucky_ , he thinks to himself.

As he nervously removes his uniform shorts, he tries his best to stop his hands from shaking. 

The cool material feels heavenly as he pulls the skirt over his legs. It’s so smooth and when Klaus looks in the mirror, he realizes that he feels powerful, in control of his life. Even for one moment.

Father would never let Klaus wear this skirt and that’s what makes the whole thing so perfect.

Because if Father never notices his son on a normal day, he’ll _have_ to notice him in a skirt.

When Klaus comes downstairs for dinner, in Allison’s skirt, his siblings give him odd looks and he even sees Diego laughing at him and mumbling something under his breath to Ben.

Ben shoots Diego a disapproving glance and offers Klaus a soft smile. The small kindness makes him feel brave enough to stand in front of Father with the others.

Father looks his children over, one by one, ensuring they are following his many rules, and when he gets to Klaus, he barely falters.

“Four,” he states with distaste.

Klaus does his best to look him in the eye.

“Yes, Father?”

“Change,” he says simply, and Klaus can feel the despair flooding him overwhelmingly.

One word.

One little, meaningless word.

That’s all he’s going to get from his father. Not even a lecture.

Then, in a small burst of anger, he fights back.

“No.”

Father shakes his head slightly and says simply, “That’s fine, Number Four. I’ll put your dinner in the bin.”

Klaus feels his stomach rumble. To his embarrassment, tears are welling in his eyes. Everyone is looking at him.

And Dad doesn’t care.

“But Da—Father, please,” Klaus corrects himself timidly, “I haven’t eaten all day.”

“Go to your room, Number Four,” Father replies without so much as a glance his way, “I won’t ask you again.”

Vanya looks up from the ground (her gaze’s usual spot) with a sympathetic look on her face.

Dad never pays attention to her, either. 

“I’ll put on my uniform pants,” Klaus murmurs, quick to give in at the smell of the delicious dinner Mother prepared.

“Bedroom, Four,” Father says one final time, “Now.”

Ben looks like he wants to say something, but Klaus shoots him a warning look. Better not have him pissing their dad off, too.

“I’ll be good,” he promises, stomach aching at the mere thought of going a full 24 hours with nothing to eat.

Why did he ever think this was a good idea?

Typical Klaus. 

Typical _Number Four_.

At least, that’s what Father is clearly thinking.

He waits a few minutes, standing there while his siblings awkwardly try to avoid eye contact.

Once Klaus realizes that his father is not going to change his mind, he turns to his mother.

“Mom,” he begs with tears in his eyes, “ _Please_.”

He knows he sounds pathetic, and even though he’s only eleven-years-old, he understands that his father expects him to be above all of these “foolish dramatics.”

But he’s hungry and lonely and he can’t think straight.

“I can bring you something, dear. After—” Mother starts to say with a sad look in her eye, but Father quickly cuts her off.

“Have I allowed you do that, Grace?” Father says shortly with a scowl on his face. She quickly shuts her mouth and for the first time in Klaus’ life he feels genuine hatred for the man.

“But—” Klaus begins to speak, but his mother simply takes him gently by the arm and leads him upstairs.

“Follow me, my darling,” she suggests soothingly, but her calming demeanor doesn’t stop the tears from pouring down his face.

“Mom, why does he hate me?”

She doesn’t answer, though once it’s dark out and everyone is asleep, she brings him a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

_Number Five_

Sometimes, Klaus is ignored in smaller, less significant ways.

Sometimes his siblings ignore him on the stairwell or avoid playing with him during their allotted 30 minutes of Saturday playtime.

Sometimes when Klaus asks for help on a particularly difficult move Father is insistent on him learning, no one answers.

No one even listens.

Five can be one of the worst.

He hardly listens to the people he actually likes. He’s always up in his brain somewhere. He’s so intelligent it must be lonely.

Probably not as lonely as Klaus feels, with only Ben and the dead as his companions.

Anyway, Klaus does not fall into the category of people Five likes, so he is not listened to. Honestly, Klaus is okay with that.

Usually.

However, when Klaus gets a massive migraine, so bad he feels like his head is splitting open, Five is the only one around.

“Five?” Klaus asks in a small voice as he drapes his arm over his eyes, blocking out any and all light.

It’s hurting like a bitch.

“What?” is the short response.

Five is busy, as usual, working on something. He’s writing furiously in a notebook full of equations and words Klaus can’t begin to understand. 

But he needs help. And Klaus is the only one around.

“Can you please get Mom?” he requests in a whisper, careful to keep his own voice down so as not to agitate his aching head.

“Get her yourself,” Five replies with an exasperated sigh, “I’m busy.”

“I know that, Five,” Klaus replies sarcastically, “But my head is splitting open and I’m dying.”

He knows he’s being ridiculous. He’s aware. But Klaus also knows that the only way for him to get attention in this family is to be completely over-the-top.

“You’re fine, Four,” his brother dismisses without even looking up.

Klaus sighs, knowing he won’t get much help from Five, even if he waits a lifetime for it.

“Whatever,” Klaus grumbles, though he struggles to talk due to the awful vibrating feeling in his skull.

God, this migraine is _killer_.

“Can you at least tell me where Mom is?” he whimpers, now certain he’s about three seconds from passing out.

“Nope,” Five responds with a shrug.

 _Fuck_ , Klaus feels weak.

“Please, man,” he says quietly, trying one last time, “Just go get Mom. I feel so sick.”

Five rolls his eyes and says nothing.

When Klaus wakes up a few moments later, Five is standing over him, looking quite bored.

“Wh—what the hell just happened?” Klaus asks groggily as he rubs the back of his head. It’s sore, like he just bumped it.

“Hey, shut up,” Five hisses, “You want Dad to hear you cursing like that?”

Klaus tries not to get frustrated, but he’s lying on the floor with a growing lump on the back of his head and apparently Five’s biggest concern is whether or not their dad heard him say “hell?”

It’s barely a swear word!

“Did I just pass out?” Klaus asks as he connects the dots. 

Nobody cares about him. Officially.

He just passed out in the living room, in front of his _brother_ , and nobody gives a damn. And they never will.

Klaus can’t wait to finally be old enough to get the fuck out of this house.

“Yeah,” Five confirms while helping him up. Klaus nods his thanks.

“Go drink some water, Four,” his brother says without a hint of emotion, “You’ll slow us all down if you pull something like that out in the field.”

_Diego._

It all starts on Klaus’ 17th birthday, in fact. 

Well, technically it’s everyone’s birthday. All seven of theirs’. But it doesn’t really matter, given the fact that their father doesn’t believe in celebrating birthdays.

It’s just another day.

Just another day in this endless cycle of bullshit. Another day of monotony. Another day of relentless, terrifying voices in his head.

Another day in hell.

His mother comes by with a cupcake around lunchtime and offers it to him with a soft smile and a kiss pressed to his forehead.

He smiles, though it feels wrong on his face. Klaus can’t remember the last time he actually smiled.

But he tries for mom because she’s the only one who’s genuinely nice to him.

She’s the only one who notices him.

“Happy birthday, sweet boy,” she says in a sing-song voice, “Make a wish!”

He gazes into the small fire as tears prick at his eyes.

 _Someone just make it stop. Make everything stop_.

Klaus blows out the candle and wishes, really wishes, that it might come true.

“Thanks, Mom,” he manages to breathe out.

She grins in response, offering a quiet, “you’re welcome,” on her way out.

He can hear her, offering the same birthday greeting next door to Diego and yet again he is reminded of the fact that he is simply a cog in a machine.

Simply a moving part of the unstoppable _Umbrella Academy_.

He’s not seen as a real person.

His only comfort, now that Ben is gone, is a robot.

Klaus glances over at a pocketknife he was gifted on his 16th birthday. It’s the only present he’s ever been given. And he only got it so that he could “survive on his own,” if need be.

Father gave it to him. The other six have the same exact one.

Klaus swallows hard, knowing he should ignore all the voices (his own this time) urging him to pick up the knife and make his suffering end.

It would be so easy. 

No one notices Klaus. Not ever.

If he were to slit his wrists, he would probably bleed out long before anyone ever thought to check on him.

It’s tempting, to say the least.

Klaus tears his eyes away and rushes to the corner of the room, knife in hand.

He’s quietly sobbing, biting into his fist so he won’t be heard.

His bedroom seems to be spinning yet standing completely still. He can’t stop thinking the same thoughts over and over.

_This is your life. This. Forever._

_It’s agony. It’s pointless._

_You’re worthless._

_No one will miss you when you’re gone. Not one person._

_Dad will be happy. He’ll be glad to finally be rid of the freak._

_And you’ll be with Ben._

Klaus moans softly, agonized over the pull he feels towards the knife.

It would be so nice to numb himself with a distraction, like he did that night with Father’s scotch.

He got in trouble, but he remembers that it was so worth it.

Pain…pain’s a good distraction, too.

He looks at the knife again and begins to think of it in a different light.

Maybe he doesn’t need to die. Maybe he just needs a distraction.

So he rolls up his sleeve and blinks away his tears, determined to do something, _anything_ , to change the awful way he’s feeling.

When he presses the knife to his skin, it hurts. Like a bitch.

He flinches away for a moment, shocked and worried as he watches the blood dribble down his pale skin.

Fuck. This is stupid. Someone will catch him.

He almost puts the knife down, but something inside of him urges him to try again. 

Maybe it will work a second time.

_Something needs to work. He needs some relief. He fucking **needs** it._

Klaus closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and slices his upper arm swiftly. He doesn’t give himself any time to back out.

The only thing he can think about is the physical pain. It’s blessedly overwhelming. The emotional pain seems to be blocked out, if just for a moment.

He knows this is going to be addictive. He knows this is going to be his only way of surviving.

Then, he hears someone gasp.

Oh god. His door is open.

He doesn’t open his eyes; he’s terrified Father will storm into his bedroom and…

Well, Klaus isn’t sure what he’d do. But he doesn’t want to find out.

“What are you doing?”

Diego. It’s Diego.

Embarrassing, but not the worst person to walk in on him.

Klaus wants to tell him, to explain that he feels like he’s dying, that he wants to die, that he needs _help_.

But he simply glares at his brother, shouting miserably, “Go away!”

Diego shrugs, though he clearly notices the bloody knife in Klaus’ hand.

“You’re fucking weird, bro.”

_Vanya._

Klaus is high. Obviously.

What else is new?

But this time, the pain isn’t going away. No, the pain is actually getting worse. Much, much worse.

He has nowhere to go, no one to talk to.

His latest one-night stand kicked him out, almost literally. After catching Klaus trying to steal his pills, the guy (name already forgotten) beat him to a pulp.

Now, Klaus is roaming the streets, woozy and bloody and alone.

He figures he should probably just find someone else to fuck and hope they fall asleep before asking him to leave.

But Klaus is tired, and he doesn’t feel like sex, and he doesn’t feel like clubbing, or drinking.

He just wants to sleep.

And his latest buzz is dying off. And so the voices of the dead are coming back. And he sort of feels like he’s dying (wouldn’t that be nice).

What to do?

Where to go when everyone you know hates you?

He doesn’t want to sleep outside tonight. It’s freezing and he’s looking a little worse for wear. He’s looking like the kind of guy one might fuck over for a good time.

What to do, what to do?

He spots a familiar looking apartment building and wonders where he’s seen it before.

It’s strange, how memories work. He knows the building is recognizable, but he doesn’t know why.

Klaus staggers up to the door and decides to knock.

Maybe it’ll be an old friend with fond memories of him (doubtful).

He leans against the door as he waits, feeling almost physically incapable of holding himself up any longer.

“Yes?” a slight woman his age responds before looking up and startling.

Klaus seems confused for a moment until he realizes that it’s his sister staring back at him.

“Holy shit,” he breathes out with a smile, “Vanya?”

He’s genuinely happy to see her, considering the fact that he hasn’t been in contact with her or any of his family for years.

“Klaus, what are you doing here?” she asks quickly with a slightly annoyed look on her face.

He pouts, simply wanting some sort of positive reaction from his sister.

“What happened to your face?” she asks instead, not bothering to invite him inside, despite how cold it is.

“Oh, you know how it is,” he trails off with a wave of his hand.

Vanya rolls her eyes and shakes her head.

 _No_ , Klaus realizes, _she doesn’t know how it is_.

“How’s the violin going?” he asks, desperate to start any kind of conversation. Longing for human interaction that isn’t based on some sort of transaction.

His life is based on giving and getting.

Sex, drugs, money, over and over.

That’s his entire reason of being.

And he’s so goddamn tired.

“Klaus, do you need money?” she asks bluntly, and it feels like being punched in the gut.

He expects a question like that from Luther and Diego, even Allison, but from Vanya? He feels a bit betrayed. She used to be the one who silently rooted for him, who understood being ignored by Dad.

“I—” Klaus tries to defend himself but knows he can’t. They all think of him as some pathetic, worthless junkie. Why bother trying to explain himself?

“The guy I was staying with just kicked me out,” he explains honestly, “I-I don’t have any place to live right now. Can I just crash here for a bit?”

Vanya shifts awkwardly and he sees in her eyes the moment she makes her decision.

She’s going to say no.

She’s going to pretend he doesn’t exist like the rest of them do.

 _Fuck_.

“Forget it,” Klaus says quickly, “Sorry for bothering you, sis.”

“Wait,” she says reluctantly and his heart swells at the mere thought of being invited to stay.

She pulls something out of her pocket and Klaus quickly realizes that it’s cash.

“Here,” Vanya offers with a shrug, “It’s enough for a night at the motel around the corner.”

He tries not to show how truly heartbroken he feels.

_Allison._

Allison has always been the one people go to in a crisis. Or so he’s been told. She’s level-headed. Strong.

She can be empathetic, but she doesn’t let anyone walk all over her. She knows how to deal with difficult people and situations.

Klaus just hopes she can help him out of a particularly sticky one.

He knows that Allison, like the rest of the family, doesn’t particularly care for him, but she must love him. At least a little bit.

Right?

He hopes so. Because he really needs her help.

Klaus’ boyfriend of a few months isn’t someone particularly special to him. In fact, he was previously his drug dealer. Then, they started sleeping together and one thing led to another.

But he’s hot, makes good money, and lets Klaus live in his house, free of charge. 

As far as everyone is concerned, it’s a pretty sweet deal.

However, Klaus is expected to keep up “his end of the bargain” in return for all the things his boyfriend does for him (provide him drugs, alcohol, a place to stay).

He has to dress the way his boyfriend wants him to. No skirts. No painted nails. No eyeliner.

His boyfriend doesn’t like that stuff. So Klaus isn’t allowed to like it either. Not when the one who’s paying his bills isn’t a fan.

It’s annoying but it’s manageable. He’s used to looking the way someone else wants him to look.

However, a few weeks ago things started getting…weird.

Klaus’ boyfriend started hurting him.

And not in a fun, kinky way.

No, Klaus’ boyfriend happened to be beating the shit out of him every single day.

And he was fucking Klaus _nonstop_. It was painful how often his boyfriend would expect him to lay down and take it.

So, Klaus decides to run. 

He’s not sure if he’ll make it far, his boyfriend’s pretty well connected. But he tries, for the sake of his own sanity.

He tries because he knows that if someone breaks him apart just one more time, he’ll shatter into a million pieces.

And he’s not going to let that douchebag be the one to break him once and for all.

Not after all the bullshit he’s been through.

So, Klaus is at Allison’s doorstep, hoping she’ll know what to do. Hoping she’ll provide even an ounce of sympathy or even guidance.

He hesitates to knock, knowing exactly what her reaction will be.

First, she’ll be confused. Then worried, but only for a minute.

Next comes frustration, anger, irritation, and finally, the worst one of all, indifference.

But maybe this time it will be different.

So, he knocks.

“Coming!”

Klaus tries to fix his hair, even though it’s matted with blood. He wants to look presentable for some reason, even though his sister has seen him through every version of hell.

“Klaus?” she confirms, eyebrows furrowed.

He simply nods.

“Jesus, what happened?” she asks as she ushers him inside.

It’s a good start, her letting Klaus in. It means she at least trusts him enough not to steal from her.

Well, she trusts him when he’s sitting right in front of her.

“I…” Klaus tries to conjure up something clever to say, but he’s coming up short. He’s too damn _tired_.

“Did you get in a fight?” she asks evenly, though he can sense the judgement in her tone.

“For once, Al, no,” he replies with a sour smile, “Not this time.”

“So, someone beat you up?” she asks with a frown. She seems genuinely concerned which is a massive relief to Klaus who wasn’t even sure she’d give a shit.

“Yeah,” he admits, “His name’s Ryan and he’s excellent at beating me up.”

“Why are you wearing clothes like that?” she asks without offering him a place to sit.

He sits anyways.

“Clothes like what?” Klaus asks, rolling his eyes.

He just told his sister that someone’s been regularly hurting him and her most pressing concern is what he’s wearing?

“Normal, I guess,” she clarifies with a shrug and Klaus immediately regrets coming here.

Of course Allison doesn’t care. Why would she? 

None of them do. None of them ever will.

“He makes me,” Klaus mumbles, hardly wanting to be heard.

It’s embarrassing, saying the words aloud.

He knows he’s more than capable of fighting back, of saying no, but his boyfriend’s the only one on Earth right now who seems to give even half a shit about him. So he just deals with it.

“No one can make you do anything, Klaus,” Allison scoffs with a patronizing look. She clearly has no intention of hearing his story.

Klaus nods and blinks away tears.

“I’m just so lonely sometimes,” he admits while ringing his hands. Stupidly, it upsets him not to see black polish on his fingernails.

He’s losing himself.

“Then clean yourself up, break up with the guy, and fix your life,” she says decidedly without even looking in Klaus’ direction.

“But—” he starts to argue, though Allison is already showing him to the door.

He really is alone.

_Luther._

On the day of the so called “reunion” of the siblings, Klaus feels the same way he always feels in this house.

Sick to his stomach. Angry. Alone. 

Dad’s dead and frankly, Klaus doesn’t give a shit. And he’s really tired of the family pretending they do.

Well, not Diego. He hasn’t offered one kind word about Dad, and honestly?

Good.

That bastard doesn’t deserve one ounce of kindness from his children. He was a monster and he never cared about any of them.

At least Diego can see that.

The night after the “funeral,” if it could even be called such a thing, Klaus indulges in some of his father’s most expensive booze.

After all, dear old Dad wouldn’t it miss it, now would he?

Even still, it felt good to drink it. Like a big “fuck you” to the man who ruined his life.

Ben’s rolling his eyes on the couch next to him, but frankly, Klaus doesn’t give a shit. Ben’s always rolling his eyes at something he’s doing.

Well, ghost Ben, that is.

“Dude, just stop,” Ben suggests with a frown, “You can get sober. I can help you get sober.”

“I don’t wanna get sober,” Klaus shoots back after taking another swig from the bottle. 

It doesn’t even taste good. For the eight hundred dollars his father spent on it, Klaus could get so much more to help him feel better.

Maybe he’d sell some of the stuff.

“Yeah, man,” another voice scoffs, addressing Klaus’ comment to ghost-Ben, “Trust me, we know.”

It’s Luther. Lecturing him. Just like Dad.

Klaus honestly didn’t even notice him standing there.

“Leave me alone,” Klaus grumbles back.

“No,” Ben and Luther argue at the same time.

“Ugh, you’re both so _loud_ ,” he shoots back in annoyance. His bottle is empty. Fuck.

“Pull yourself together, Klaus,” Luther replies without missing a beat, “And I’m locking all this shit up.”

Klaus starts to panic; he _needs_ the booze. He can’t survive without it.

“Noooo,” he whines, “no, no, _please_ Luther.” 

His own supply is running out. Without his dad’s liquor cabinet, Klaus will be in serious trouble.

Luther shrugs and Klaus turns towards Ben, who seems oh-so smug. He could punch him. He wouldn’t, even if he could, but he’d sure like to.

Ben softens at the look on his brother’s face.

“You’re killing yourself, Klaus,” he says gently.

“Yeah?” Klaus replies quietly, “Good. I wish I were dead.”

Luther sighs and looks his brother over.

“Grow up and get over yourself, Four.”

_+1 The Family Finds Klaus._

“Has anyone seen Klaus?” Vanya asks quietly, a few hours after the service.

Apparently, Luther said something to Klaus that really upset him, and he’s been locked away in his room ever since.

No one answers. 

They’re all worried about whether or not Dad was murdered, or something like that. Well, Luther and Diego are.

Five seems completely focused on his own business, and Allison is trying to serve as the mediator.

Mom is nowhere to be seen, but she wasn’t really all there at the service, anyways.

So, Vanya takes it upon herself to trudge up the stairs and find her brother.

Music is playing loudly from the bathroom, which isn’t much of a shock. Klaus always enjoyed taking endlessly long baths growing up.

She thinks maybe they help with the ghosts and the nightmares.

Vanya almost goes back downstairs, thinking it might be intrusive to knock, but something in her gut tells her to stay. Something tells her to investigate further.

“Klaus?” she says awkwardly while knocking on the door. She’s sure to be loud enough to be heard over the music.

Nothing.

Complete silence.

It’s eerie and unsettling. Vanya’s not sure why she has such a bad feeling, but she can’t seem to shake it.

Klaus seems so sad lately.

Vanya can’t help but remember the time he just wanted a place to stay and she sent him off to a motel.

She hates thinking about moments like that, times when she turned people away, people who clearly needed help.

She isn’t going to do it again.

So, she covers her eyes and slowly makes her way into the bathroom.

“It’s Vanya,” she states obviously, “My eyes are covered. Just checking on you.”

She gets no response.

She removes her hand and opens her eyes.

Klaus.

_Fuck, Klaus!_

He’s lying on the ground, wrists bloody and eyes fluttering open. He’s struggling to remain conscious.

“Shit!” she screams as she kneels on the ground, pulling her brother into her arms, “Oh god, _shit_! Fuck, fuck, fuck, Klaus! Open your eyes!”

She’s sobbing, trying to look anywhere but the blood stains on her shirt from where her brother is grabbing at her desperately. 

“Let me die. It’s best for me,” he whispers, and Vanya grows pale. She’s absolutely horrified. 

Klaus can’t mean that.

Klaus can’t die.

“Help!” she cries as loud as she can while trying to apply pressure to the wounds, “Luther! Oh Christ, please! Someone come! Diego!”

She’s listing the names of everyone in the house. In Vanya’s mind it feels like hours when in reality, it’s barely been a few seconds.

When Five pops into the room she finally breathes, but only a little.

Klaus is still dying. He’s fucking dying in her arms.

Diego is next, running into the room like the vigilante hero he is and he’s clearly in shock.

“Wh-what h-happened?” he asks, his stutter coming out a bit at the disturbing sight.

“He’s obviously trying to kill himself!” Five shouts back irritably, though his concern is written across his child-like features. 

Allison, now accompanied by Luther, is crying.

“Fix him!” she begs while fidgeting with her locket, “Shit, Luther! What did you say to him?”

“Nothing,” Klaus defends his brother, though he’s hardly coherent, “I wanted to.”

“What?” Diego asks fiercely, “What d-did Klaus s-s-say?”

“We need Pogo,” Luther realizes suddenly, ignoring Diego’s threatening look, “and Mom. She’s a trained nurse, she’ll know what to do.”

“We all have the same blood type,” Five realizes.

“I’ll donate,” Vanya says before anyone else can even think to offer. She wants to do something, anything.

“Let me die,” Klaus whispers, though his head feels foggy and he knows he only has a few moments of consciousness left, “Please.”

Allison sobs, hiding her face in Diego’s shoulder while Luther comes rushing back with Mom and Pogo.

“You’re not fucking dying,” Luther commands frantically as he ushers Mom into the bathroom.

“Come, Vanya,” Pogo says gravely, “I’ll draw your blood.”

She nods, wipes her tears, and offers Klaus a soft kiss on the forehead before leaving him in the arms of their mother.

“I’m done now, Mommy,” he whimpers as he curls into her, “It’s my time.”

His vision is darkening and he’s so close. It’s almost over.

Ben’s right there waiting for him. 

_Dave_ , his beautiful Dave, has his hand outstretched with a smile tugging at his lips.

This is what happiness feels like. This is paradise.

“Hush now, dear,” Mom calms him before beginning to stitch up the wounds on his wrists.

When Klaus wakes up the next day, for the first time in his life, he’s disappointed that someone finally noticed him.


	2. Part Two: Klaus Wakes Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaus wakes up and tries to navigate a conversation with his siblings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I'm back with a part 2! First off, Thank YOU for such a warm reception and the kind words left about my story. It means so much to me!  
> I'm back because I really felt like the first part was unfinished and I wanted a true ending. I'm not in love with this one, but I couldn't resist exploring the family dynamic after such a tragedy.  
> TW: Aftermath of suicide attempt, mentions of cutting and suicide, mentions of drug and alcohol abuse.

As Klaus opens his eyes, he can’t help but let out a low moan. Jesus Christ, he’s got a mammoth headache.

He blinks a few times to clear his vision and tries to remember where he is.

Fuck, what a hangover.

He looks around, as he always does when he wakes up somewhere unrecognizable, then realizes that he’s not somewhere unrecognizable at all.

He’s in his childhood home.

He’s lying on what seems to be a sort-of make-shift hospital bed and suddenly Klaus knows exactly what’s going on.

His bandaged wrists confirm his suspicion.

He sees Ben sitting by his side, expression lost and a little afraid and Klaus can’t help but whimper like a lost child.

“Ben,” Klaus murmurs tearfully, “you should have let me die.”

“We aren’t gonna let you die, man,” a different voice speaks up, “Well, I’m not, anyway.”

It’s Diego and he seems to be incredibly frustrated, but for once, not with Klaus. He keeps glaring at someone else.

“What, and I am?” Luther shoots back furiously.

“I don’t know,” Diego replies with a scowl, “You really didn’t seem to give a shit about him yesterday.”

“What?” Klaus whispers while sending a helpless look Ben’s way.

“Everyone’s blaming Luther for your attempt,” the ghost supplies with a frown, “Well, maybe not everyone. But definitely Diego.”

“Fuck you!” Luther shouts back indignantly, “You shrug Klaus off every chance you get! You treat him like a fucking lost puppy you’re dying to get rid of!”

Klaus flinches at the comment that is entirely accurate and closes his eyes to try to get rid of the migraine threatening to overwhelm him.

“Guys, maybe you shouldn’t—” Vanya attempts to interrupt but she’s quickly shut down.

“Oh, fuck off, Vanya,” Diego responds venomously, “You should be loving this. It’s great material for a sequel. I’m sure you’d love to do a tell-all for the world all about when your brother tried to off himself!”

“That’s not fair,” Allison cuts in, attempting, as always, to keep the peace.

Klaus, despite popular belief, doesn’t always like being the center of attention and he certainly hates it right now. He shifts uncomfortably.

“You’re all insufferable,” Five complains, rolling his eyes and finishing off a scotch.

Klaus frantically searches the room for his mom or Pogo, or anyone to make things just a bit calmer.

“You’re really drinking in front of him right now?” Allison shoots back patronizingly, “Way to be supportive, Five.”

“Ben, make them stop,” Klaus pleads, though he knows it’s of no use.

His siblings always ignore him. Even when he’s the topic of conversation.

“I think the arguing is bothering him,” Vanya says as authoritatively as she can manage (which isn’t saying much) but no one looks her way.

Klaus appreciates the effort.

“Children!” their mother scolds them suddenly, voice firm in a way it so rarely is, “This is hardly what your brother needs right now.”

“Sorry,” Diego backs down immediately. He always respects Mom’s requests; he always has.

“How are you feeling, my love?” she asks, her tone once again sweet as sugar. It’s soothing and allows Klaus to pretend, just for a moment, that things are okay.

“Oh, um,” he pauses, unsure how to answer without making his mother upset. He knows she’s a machine, but it doesn’t change the fact that she would do anything for him and his siblings.

“Swell, Mom,” he decides on weakly, “Thanks.”

“Hey, Mom,” Diego cuts in gently, offering his brother a soft smile first, “I think Klaus might be a little hungry. Would you mind making him something to eat?”

Mom thrives off of instruction. She lives to be a caretaker. Diego is doing exactly what he needs to in order to help her cope with the fact that she almost lost another son.

“Of course!” she chirps enthusiastically, “I’ll make turkey and swiss sandwiches. Your favorite!”

Klaus nods and tries to smile. He doesn’t succeed but he hopes Mom understands that he’s trying.

He listens to her heels clicking away towards the kitchen as everyone in the room remains dead silent.

“Hey, Five,” Klaus half jokes, “got anymore booze?”

Allison smacks Five on the shoulder with a self-righteous look on her face; she warned him about drinking in front of Klaus.

Five has the decency to look guilty and shakes his head.

“We want to talk to you, Klaus,” Luther requests gravely.

They expect him to have this conversation sober?

“I’m fine,” he replies immediately, already trying to sit up in the bed. However, the room spinning doesn’t exactly make this an easy task.

“Woah, brother,” Diego stops him with a worried expression, his hand grasping Klaus’ shoulder lightly, “Careful. You lost a lot of blood.”

“I said I’m fine,” he repeats frustratedly, though he knows that absolutely no one in the room is buying it.

He can’t handle being around so many people right now. He wants to leave and clear his head.

He wants to leave and try again.

He doesn’t want anyone to stop him this time.

“Klaus, we know that’s not true,” Allison tries in a soft voice, and their concern is honestly starting to piss him off.

“Oh?” Klaus replies sarcastically, “Care to enlighten me on how you could possibly know that?”

“You slit your goddamn wrists, Klaus,” Five snaps shortly, “We all know you’re not fine.”

Klaus swallows hard and tries to keep his cool but he’s already upset, and he’s gone hours without some sort of high, so his threshold for bullshit isn’t very great.

“Yeah, well,” he grumbles, “apparently it takes a suicide attempt to get you people to notice that something’s wrong.”

Before anyone can fight back, Vanya questions delicately, “How long have you been feeling this way?”

Klaus laughs; it’s a short, mangled sounding thing, full of pain and heartache.

“I don’t know,” he admits, “Forever, it seems like.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Allison questions innocently.

Klaus shakes his head and scoffs, “Would you have cared, Allison? And be honest.”

She takes a step back and is clearly offended. Perfect, Princess Allison can never do anything wrong, can she?

Luther, who always seems to be inserting himself into conversations he doesn’t belong in, of course defends her.

“Klaus, just because you’re hurting doesn’t mean you get to take it out on the rest of us.”

“Shut up, Luther,” Diego responds, rolling his eyes at the ridiculously codependent relationship the pair of them seem to have.

“Why don’t you ask Allison about my abusive ex?” Klaus breathes out as he blinks away tears.

“Klaus…” Allison trails off with a shame filled look on her face.

“Abusive ex?” Five questions curiously, clearly feeling as though he’s missed out on quite a lot while living through the aftermath of an apocalypse.

“I—I thought you’d be able to handle it, Klaus,” she tries to explain, “I’m so sorry.”

“When he found out I tried to get help he almost killed me,” Klaus informs her quietly, “It’s a pity. I just can’t seem to die.”

“Who is this asshole?” Diego asks fiercely, “The one who hurt you?”

Heroic Diego, always searching for someone to avenge. Too bad he wasn’t there when Klaus actually needed him.

“Does it matter now?” Klaus says with a sigh, “He doesn’t bother me anymore.”

“Allison, how could you turn him away like that?” Vanya asks with genuine shock and judgement in her voice. Klaus wants to laugh.

“Oh my darling sister, I think you forget,” he chimes in, “that you weren’t exactly there for me in my time of need, either.”

Vanya seems to shrink back as she remembers the way she coldly offered him some cash for a motel a few years back then never even bothered to check in on him again.

“Let’s just accept the cold, hard facts: I’ve never been important to any of you. The only one who really loved me was Ben,” Klaus says wistfully as he remembers a childhood spent with his best friend.

“I love you,” Allison promises but Klaus doesn’t believe her. He doesn’t believe anyone loves him. Not anymore.

“Everyone who loves me is dead,” he responds with a shrug, “And that’s why you all should have minded your own business and let me die, too.”

“Look, bro,” Diego tries after taking a deep breath, “We’ve all fucked up. I remember fucking up big time when we were seventeen. You remember?”

Klaus sucks in a breath and nods; of course he remembers. It was the first time he cut himself.

“I should have done _something_ ,” Diego admits, “to help you. But I didn’t. I was selfish. And I’m sorry.”

Klaus can hardly believe it; his brother is apologizing for hurting him. He’s admitting it.

Hearing someone validating the thoughts and feelings that have been haunting him his entire life is overwhelming and he begins to sob.

“Everything hurts so much,” Klaus weeps, chest heaving from the sheer agony of it all.

Diego nods and takes his hand, holding it firmly.

“I know,” he agrees as Klaus holds on tight, “You’ve been through a lot, bro.”

“I’m so tired,” he whimpers back, “I’m _exhausted_.”

Klaus just wants to sleep for an eternity. Christ, that would be a dream.

“Then rest,” Vanya offers gently, “We’ll help you feel better. You don’t have to carry all this pain alone anymore.”

The thought of sleep is too tempting to ignore. But without a drink or something to take or shoot up, he doesn’t think he’ll be getting an ounce of sleep.

“Can someone get me a drink?” he requests while trying to ignore the way his skin is crawling, “I need something.”

Luther shakes his head, denying his request subtly.

“Please?” Klaus tries again, “I’m—fuck, I can’t do this right now, seriously guys, I can’t.”

Allison looks around with fear in her eyes; she clearly has no idea whether or not she should give in to her brother’s wishes.

Klaus feels disgusting; he’s trembling and sweating from the withdrawal and he just needs someone to actually help him for once in his goddamn life.

“Five, come on,” he begs quietly, “Just one drink. I can’t fucking think like this. I can’t even breathe!”

“One might be okay,” Allison agrees carefully and if Klaus were able to stand, he would be seriously considering dropping to his knees in thanks right now.

“Seriously?” Five scowls at his sister, “Just three seconds ago I was the villain for drinking a scotch.”

Allison gives Five a look that shuts him down pretty quick and she turns to the others.

“One drink, yes or no?” she asks, genuinely interested in what the rest of them have to say.

“Yes,” Klaus supplies frantically and despite the oppositional looks in his siblings’ eyes, he continues on indignantly, “What? I still get a vote.”

“I guess so,” Luther agrees then turns to Klaus quite seriously, “You get one drink today. _Only one_. You want it now or later?”

No one else says anything, so it’s safe to assume that the rest of the gang are okay with Luther’s plan.

_Thank god_ , Klaus thinks to himself.

“Now,” he responds quickly, without spending even a moment to think it over, “Please.”

“Alright,” Luther agrees hesitantly as Five pours more scotch into his glass, though this time he hands it over to his brother.

Klaus downs it in one go, and after enjoying a slight burning sensation, he quickly realizes that one drink is pretty much worthless. He’s built such a tolerance that one drink is essentially a glass of water to him.

Klaus knows, however, that his family is not going to budge on the whole “one drink only” thing. So he takes what he can get.

“I’m sorry we hurt you so bad,” Vanya says unexpectedly. She seems genuinely apologetic and incredibly guilty.

Klaus sighs and tries to decide how best to answer her.

“You all aren’t the reason I tried to kill myself,” he supplies weakly, “My life is shit. I hate who I am. I’m tired of trying to survive. I’m haunted by people who are constantly begging me to save them, even though I have no power to do so. That’s why I tried to kill myself.”

“But we could have done more,” Vanya offers, and Klaus can’t argue with her on that.

But he wonders, would it have even made a difference?

Even if his siblings decided to support him, he’d still be stuck with endless voices in his brain. He’d be hooked on pills and drugs and alcohol and sex. Ben would still be dead. Dad would still have ruined him.

“Maybe,” he agrees softly, “But there’s a lot of other bullshit that led to this moment. And I haven’t exactly been brother of the year anyways. Dad fucked us all up. None of us know how to love each other because Dad certainly didn’t love us.”

“The fucking bastard,” Diego murmurs under his breath and Klaus smiles.

“Cheers to that,” Klaus replies, raising his empty glass upwards while Diego tries to stifle a laugh, “To our dearest Daddy. May he rot in hell for the rest of eternity.”

“Hear, hear,” Diego agrees genuinely.

“Guys, stop,” Luther says seriously, and Klaus rolls his eyes. 

When will he ever give it up? They aren’t kids anymore. He doesn’t need to be “Number One” anymore.

“Let it go, Luther,” Five cuts in, “Dad was a piece of shit. Stop defending him.”

Klaus actually grins; it’s nice having a common enemy to bring them all together, even if it is their own father.

“He’s dead,” Luther replies as if that makes a difference.

“True,” Allison agrees, then shocks them all by saying, “and we’re all better off without him.”

“Allison!” Klaus cries out with a grin, “Have you come to join us over on the dark side?”

Luther shifts uncomfortably before trying one last time, “He taught us how to use our powers. He wasn’t exactly warm, but he still helped us in the long run.”

“Oh?” Klaus inquires with a chuckle, “I thought he just tortured and experimented on us. Luther, we were pawns in his game.”

Luther looks down at the ground and shrugs, trying to pretend that he isn’t upset by the fact that his brother is, in fact, correct.

Their father was a monster.

“I think we should all blame Dad for our shitty lives instead of each other,” Klaus suggests, lips quirking up into a smile.

“Dad was truly the worst,” Five contributes as he takes a drink straight from their Dad’s very expensive bottle of scotch.

“Klaus?” Vanya interrupts nervously.

“Hm?”

“Are you really okay?” she awkwardly asks, “Like, do you need anything from us? Do you want to talk?”

Klaus shrugs: he isn’t sure. He’s not able to decide just yet. 

“I’m just glad you guys are here,” he admits, teary-eyed yet again, “It…well, it means a lot.”

“We’ll always be here, Klaus,” Allison promises soothingly, “From here on out.”

“Thanks, Al.”

Klaus’ headache seems to be fading away and for the first time in years he feels content.

“Oh, and if some asshole ever touches you again, I’m killing him,” Diego vows fiercely while gazing at his knife menacingly.

Klaus giggles, “Aw, Diego! That’s adorable.”

“It’s not adorable,” Diego debates firmly, “It’s threatening.”

“It’s sweet,” Klaus continues playfully, “You _loooove_ me. You’re such a sweetheart.”

“I’m not a sweetheart!” Diego argues back as though they’re children. It’s refreshing for all of them. After all, they never really got the chance to actually _be_ children.

“Whatever you say,” Klaus teases and he doesn’t miss the responding smile from his brother, even if it’s just for a moment.

“Why did you date the guy, anyways?” Five asks curiously, “I mean, Dad taught us all how to beat the shit out of just about anyone. You could have defended yourself.”

“Don’t ask him that!” Vanya insists seriously, “I’m sure he has his reasons.”

Klaus raises a hand to stop his sister’s well-meaning defense and looks around at everyone in the room.

“He was the only person I had,” he confesses quietly, “I was so lonely. I needed someone. And…well, I guess he was the only person who actually wanted me. Kind of.”

“So you let him hurt you,” Allison questions sadly, eyes filled with a kindness Klaus has never seen directed at himself before, “because you didn’t have anyone else?”

“I mean, you’ve been around me all your lives,” Klaus minimizes, “You know how difficult I can be to deal with. I’m sure sometimes I deserved it.”

“The abuse?” Luther asks in horror, “You think you deserved it?”

“Sometimes,” Klaus accepts without question, “Not always, but probably sometimes.”

“Why would you think that?” Allison questions while running her fingers through her brother’s hair comfortingly.

Klaus can’t see the concerned look on her face, but he can hear it in her voice.

It’s strange to him that they all seem so confused. Of course he deserved it.

“You know,” he supplies warily, “I’m annoying.”

“So what?” Diego responds immediately, “You’re annoying. _And_?”

The reply is blunt and so much like Diego that Klaus can’t help but chuckle.

“That’s it,” Klaus mumbles, cheeks reddening in embarrassment.

“You think people should hurt you because they find you annoying?” Five tries to clarify. He clearly has no idea what his brother is on about.

Five has always had an incredible sense of self and a distinct bravado that Klaus has been jealous of since he was eight years old.

Five thinks he’s hot shit. Five believes that he’s a hero, that he’s meant for greatness.

Klaus believes it when people imply that he’s lesser than dirt. He’s internalized it. The belief has become a major part of the way he lives his life.

“I don’t necessarily think they _should_ , but I understand it,” Klaus finally replies, and he knows his siblings are going to give him the mother of all lectures.

“Well I don’t!” Allison rages protectively, “I may not have been there for you when you needed me, but I promise you, I never once thought you deserved pain and abuse. Klaus, I’m so sorry you’ve felt this way for so long.”

“No worries,” Klaus quickly dismisses, desperate to change the subject.

“Is that why you cut yourself when we were kids?” Diego asks quietly as the memory comes to the surface of both of their minds, “Because you thought you deserved the pain?”

“I—”

Klaus can’t finish his sentence because, once again, his siblings are arguing.

“You saw Klaus cutting himself and you didn’t tell us?” Luther shot, outraged at his brother for keeping something like that hidden.

“It wasn’t any of your business, asshole,” Diego argues, getting to his feet and dropping Klaus’ hand as he does so.

Klaus hates the bickering, it makes him want to drink or get high or disappear, but he doesn’t know how to make them stop.

He feels invisible again.

Then, he feels gentle fingers caressing his arm and the soft touch is nice, calming even, until he realizes exactly what’s going on.

Klaus flinches away once he feels his sister’s fingers trace over a row of scars. He never wanted anyone to know about them.

“When’s the last time you did this to yourself, Klaus?” Allison whispers in his ear, though she’s somehow loud enough to drown out both the pounding of his heart and the arguing of his brothers.

“Um…about a month ago,” he admits while biting his lip, “I didn’t want you guys to know. Diego found me when I was seventeen, but he kept it a secret. I’m glad he did.”

“Luther, lay off Diego,” Vanya pleads, “Klaus probably didn’t want any of us to know, anyways.”

“I did it mostly because I wanted to feel a different kind of pain,” Klaus explains in a soft voice. They all turn dead silent.

“Emotional pain is a bitch,” Klaus explains with a humorless laugh, “Can’t do anything to treat it. It just sits there and festers. But physical pain? That’s good. It’s controllable. It’s a distraction and it’s a fucking great one. That, Diego, is why I do it.”

“Do it?” Diego immediately reacts, “I thought you only did it one time.”

“That’s exactly what I wanted you to think,” Klaus grumbles miserably.

“Well, you need to stop,” Diego maintains steadfastly, “Now.”

“No shit, Diego,” Allison exclaims with a shake of the head, “He needs help though, obviously.”

“Then I’ll help him,” Diego responds quickly as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Klaus looks to him with a hesitant hopefulness that he doesn’t often allow himself to feel.

His brother wants to help him?

“You will?” Klaus asks quietly, eyes welling with unshed tears. All he’s wanted his entire life was to feel loved by his family.

“Course,” Diego promises simply.

“We’ll all help you,” Vanya adds genuinely, “Dad’s gone. We can finally be ourselves.”

“I’m not letting you die,” Luther agrees, “I’m not losing another brother.”

Klaus feels like a thousand pounds have lifted from his shoulders. He feels weightless, free.

His secret is finally out, and no one hates him like he thought they would. 

“See?” Ben speaks up with a sparkling grin; he, too, seems weightless, “I told you they’d help you.”

“Yes, yes,” Klaus rolls his eyes fondly, “You did indeed, brother dear. Yet another thing I was wrong, and you were right about. Feel free to gloat.”

Ben just continues to smile down at his brother, finally admitting quietly, “I’m just so glad you’re okay, Klaus. I didn’t want you to die.”

“I guess I’m, sort of— _maybe_ —glad too,” Klaus accepts as he looks around at the room full of family who finally seem to notice him.

_I really do exist_ he realizes with a smile.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I might write a part two if anyone's interested :)


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